


I've got troubled thoughts and the self esteem to match

by HistoriaGloria



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical infection stuff, Hurt/Comfort, I fix it in the end I promise, Kidnapping, M/M, Whump, oh boy I just project a whole lot on to Wilde
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23136022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HistoriaGloria/pseuds/HistoriaGloria
Summary: Between everything that is going on, Zolf, Hamid and Oscar are trying to navigate a new relationship on top of it all.And then Hamid disappears. And everything goes wrong.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan/Zolf Smith, Oscar Wilde/Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan, Oscar Wilde/Zolf Smith/Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan, Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	I've got troubled thoughts and the self esteem to match

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kristsune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/gifts).



> Okay was this meant to be this long? No.  
> Did I end up massively projecting on to these characters? Yes.  
> But! I hope you guys like it! I'm very on board with this ship, okay they all need love.  
> Thank you so much to the wonderful Kristsune for enabling this and helping out. Love you! <3
> 
> Title is from What a Catch, Donnie by Fall Out Boy:  
> 'I've got troubled thoughts and the self esteem to match,  
> What a catch, what a catch."

After Shoin, there is a small amount of down time for all of them. There is too much to do, too much to chase up for the time they really need to decompress, but LOLOMG are used to that by now. Oscar spends most of his time in his office, reading missives and replying in code. Zolf and Hamid have been back for just over a week, with the Shoin brain in a ball. They’ve been waiting, letting Cel build a small, enclosed gramophone to allow them to correspond with Shoin.

And so, they’ve been together.

Hamid has spent most of his time with Zolf and Oscar, curled up reading in the office.

Their whole relationship is new, only a few days old, but it already feels like home to Oscar. Zolf and he have been skirting around each other for a little while, but the return of Hamid has dragged up old feelings…

And well. They’re all much better at communication now. Three hours of careful conversation and stolen kisses later and Oscar has found himself with two partners.

Oscar _likes_ it. He is enjoying the peace, the easy comfort that he feels spending time with his significant others. Today, there is just Zolf and him, but it doesn’t worry him. It’s fairly early, not even 9am yet and whilst Zolf and he are early rises, Hamid is not.

Zolf is sat in the free chair, book in hand, legs crossed as he reads one of his favourite Harrison Campbell novels. Oscar privately thinks they’re sensationalist drivel, but he would never tell Zolf that. They make him so happy. Oscar is writing a reply to Curie, summarising some of the findings from Shoin. The missive is well-encoded and only ever seen by Curie, to make sure that none of the Infected can get hold of it.

“Did you see Hamid last night?” Zolf asks quietly, not looking up from his book.

“He was in here with me until about 7?” Oscar replies, looking over at him. “I didn’t see him after?”

Zolf’s brow furrows and he does look up.

“I didn’t see him yesterday,” Zolf says. “I was cooking but he wasn’t at dinner.” There is a slight chill down Oscar’s neck.

“He had said he was going to take a walk before dinner?” Oscar thinks back to the day before. Hamid has been restless. Oscar knows that he misses his family; he had been very vocal about wanting to go back to Cairo as soon as they can. So, Oscar had suggested that he take a walk, just around the village, just to try and get out. Hamid had agreed, had said that he probably wouldn’t be back for dinner but would make sure to grab leftovers from Zolf when he returned.

“He said he wasn’t going to be back for dinner, but still…” Oscar says quietly, placing his quill down.

“I’m sure he’s fine. He was probably with Azu,” Zolf says, but Wilde can see the tightness in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. Zolf is worried. And now, so is Oscar.

“Well, she’ll be up. I’ll go ask.” Oscar tries to sound at least calm, even if jovial is less of something he musters up these days. Zolf nods, returning to looking at his book, but he knows that the dwarf is just staring rather than actually reading it. He gets up and shuffles out of the room to knock on Azu’s door.

“Azu?” he calls quietly and the door opens, the orc standing there in her less formal attire.

“Good morning, Oscar,” she says, a smile on her lips.

“Morning, have you seen Hamid?” Immediately, her brows furrow.

“Not since yesterday, I thought he was with you and Zolf? Is he maybe with Cel?” Wilde would never admit it, but he quite likes the alchemist. They’re intelligent and helpful even if they can be a bit much.

“I don’t know, have you seen them?” Oscar is trying to not appear worried, not wanting to upset Azu. He doesn’t think he is successful because she is frowning heavily.

“I think they were around this morning? Working on the brain orb?” Azu says, shrugging a little. “Tell me if you find Hamid.”

“I will, I will. I’m sure he’s fine,” Oscar says immediately, smiling just a little, so as not to pull his scar. Azu nods, clearly not convinced as Oscar heads off to find Cel.

The worry is pooling in his stomach now. Hamid means way more to him than he is ready to let on. The halfling is kind and makes sure that he and Zolf actually get some rest and Oscar might just love him. He heads out, looking for Cel. Both of them of appear to be to be building in the little workshop that is just outside, clattering around with lots of metal.

“Cel, have you seen Hamid?” Oscar calls as he heads straight over.

“Oh, good morning, Oscar! How have you been? You’re up nice and early, working on things.” Cel’s goggles are over their eyes and there is a welding torch in their hands. “Haven’t seen Hamid this morning, but we’re so close to having this be done! I reckon, we can have a nice chat with Shoin tonight, which should be interesting for everyone. Honestly, he’s so terrible, I am really looking forward to gloating, you know in a way…” Oscar tunes out Cel’s babbling.

Now, Oscar feels as though he is cursed again, like back in Damascus, his stomach roiling and pulse thrumming in his ears.

“Well, good luck, I’ll see you soon,” Oscar says quickly, waving a little as he wanders back into the inn.

He needs to tell Zolf. Hurrying back up to the office, Wilde tugs slightly at his hair, nervously. Zolf looks up immediately as soon as he returns.

“Did you find him?” he asks immediately. Oscar shakes his head, slumping into his seat.

“No one has seen him since yesterday. I, um, we should search. Check the village.” He can feel the panic closing up his throat as he thinks about Hamid being gone.

“Yeah. I’ll go,” Zolf says, book down immediately. “Don’t worry, Oscar, we’ll find him. We’ll find him.” The dwarf presses a kiss to Oscar’s hair and heads straight out.

And Oscar shudders.

Why couldn’t he just have one nice thing?

* * *

Zolf doesn’t come back for several hours and by the second, Oscar has given up on work for literally pacing a hole in his floor.

Zolf will come back. And he’ll come back with Hamid.

Oscar can’t help but think about Grizzop, about him promising to come back as soon as they were done in Rome, staying to make sure Oscar could carry on despite everything.

He can’t help but think about the months he spent alone. The time he was useless, helpless, _nothing_ and it cost him so much.

If he had been better could Grizzop and Sasha have made it out? If he had been there?

**_No._ **

Zolf and Wilde have spoken about this. There is no point focusing on the past because they can’t _fix it._ Oscar can’t undo the loss as much as it pierces his heart and panics him every time that LOLOMG are gone for just a little too long.

He slumps into the chair that Zolf had left empty, face in his hands. They’ll be back soon. Zolf will be back soon.

“Oscar?” He looks up at Azu standing in the doorway.

“Oh, hey,” he straightens up, trying to look like he isn’t falling apart. “Did you need something?”

“Did you find Hamid?” Azu is looking worried now, toying with the hem of her sleeve.

“Um, no… Zolf has gone into the village to ask around.” Oscar hopes he does a good job of schooling his face into a calm expression, but the way Azu reacts, he doubts it. “I’m sure he’ll find him.” The paladin folds her arms.

“And if Zolf doesn’t find him?” Oscar doesn’t miss the way her voice cracks. Hamid is all Azu has left, after everything they went through in Rome.

“Then I’ll reach out to every contact I have, Harlequin and Meritocrat alike. We will find him, Azu.” Wilde has contingency plans for this. He has timelines for the amount of time he can spend searching for them before he can no longer justify it. He has lists of contacts he can reach out to, trusted ones. He has people he can bring in to help.

He won’t go through the months of waiting again.

He won’t go through the agony of not being able to help again.

He can’t _bear it_.

Azu nods a little, her shoulders slumping.

“Alright. Thank you, Oscar.”

“He means a lot to me too,” Wilde says quietly, rubbing his eyes. “I understand.” The paladin nods, moving over to reassuringly rub his shoulder before heading out.

Wilde sighs and gets up to rifle around for his contingency plans. He just wants to be prepared.

Zolf returns about 3 hours after he has left, hand tight on his glaive, eyes dark and mouth pinched in frustration.

“He’s gone.” The statement is short, sharp and Oscar’s head snaps up to him immediately. He had been scrawling out requests for assistance and it looks like they’re going to be needed.

“Gone where? How? Why?” He feels a little like Cel, so many things crowding his mind immediately.

“One of the townsfolk who spoke some English translated for me, but a couple of people saw Hamid yesterday evening, heading back up towards here when three people appeared and teleported out with him.” Oscar curses. Viscerally.

“Okay, okay. I have a few missives to send. Find Cel and Azu, tell them. We’ll find him, I’ll pull some strings.”

“Oscar… they teleported. He could be anywhere in the world,” Zolf sounds exhausted and Wilde can see the tears in his eyes. “He’s… he’s gone.”

“I, no. **_No._** After Rome, I promised myself I wouldn’t be useless. No. I’m going to contact some people and we’re going to find him.” He stands up and crosses the room to Zolf. The dwarf looks up at him, grief written across his face.

“You’re certain about this.” Oscar leans down to kiss Zolf’s hair, then presses their foreheads together.

“We won’t lose him again, Zolf. Not again,” he whispers, as Zolf clutches slightly at Oscar’s shoulders.

“Then let’s find who the _hell_ thinks they can get away with taking our partner.”

* * *

In Zolf’s opinion, it takes them 5 days too long to find Hamid.

5 days is far too long for him to be in the clutches of anyone who means him harm. He’s not usually an impatient man, but waiting for replies, even through rapid magical means, is not his idea of fun. Oscar pulls so many strings, contacting as many magic users and intelligence networks as he can, to find where these people have decided to take Hamid. But it still takes time; time that Zolf knows their partner doesn’t have right now.

And, five basically sleepless days later, Oscar bolts upright at his desk. Neither of them have left each others’ sights for longer than half an hour during this time. Zolf knows that Oscar is worried about losing everything again. He knows that every time Zolf and Hamid are away for longer than they expect, he panics. Feels like he’s losing them all over again. And so, Zolf is sat across from him when Oscar’s eyes glaze over and he begins to scribble on a scrap of paper, not looking at it at all.

“Thank you. We’ll take it from here,” he says aloud and blinks, looking straight at Zolf. “We’ve found him. We need to contact Einstein and go.” Zolf nods, leaping to his feet.

“I’ll get the others. Azu has the stone which can call Einstein.” He hurries out to find Cel and Azu who have been spending most of their time together, trying to prepare. Shoin is on hold until they find Hamid; Cel has been focused on trying to concoct as many potions as they can to take down whatever has their sorcerer. Azu has been swinging from actively training to just worrying. They’re outside, Cel chattering about something whilst Azu fidgets and as soon as Zolf comes over, they both look up.

“We’ve found him,” Zolf says shortly. “Contact Einstein, we’ll need a ride.” Azu is fumbling with her stone before Zolf even finishes his sentence, on her feet.

“Okay! I’ll grab all of my potions,” Cel says, grabbing for their bag of holding. Azu is already talking into the stone as Zolf hurries back inside to tell Oscar that they’re on their way.

He doesn’t get into the house before Oscar appears at the door, coat on, a scrap of paper in hand.

“I,” Zolf starts, frowning but Wilde shakes his head.

“I’m coming with you. It’s Hamid. I’m not losing him again, Zolf.” His voice is sharp and allows for no argument. Zolf doesn’t even try.

“Alright!” Einstein appears, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Oscar thrusts the paper towards him which he glances over quickly. “Good. Okay. Everyone gather up and let’s hope!”

And then they’re all gone.

* * *

Zolf doesn’t think he has ever been this angry, ever seen Oscar this furious. The bard wields his spells, so commonly used to charm and sleaze, like a blade. He spits curses and hexes and fights with the wickedly sharp dagger that Zolf knows lives in his left boot. Admittedly, the Oscar Wilde he knows now is a far cry from the one he met so long ago in London. But that doesn’t mean Zolf isn’t surprised by the fury in Oscar’s offensive spells.

He understands it though. He is just as angry.

His glaive burns with holy fire as he slams it through another one of the Cult of Hades. The cult members appear to be mixed in with the Infected, working together, but they’re no match for LOLOMG. Cel is huge again, winged and vicious, crossbow bolts taking down several members. Azu’s armour glows, bright and dangerous as she wades through the Infected, her axe wailing in that unnatural way.

They are showing no mercy.

The battle is hard, with so many enemies, but after some of Wilde’s clever tricks with illusion magic, they manage to subdue everyone.

“Go, find him,” Azu says roughly, her armour covered in blood, but she looks okay. None of them have open wounds or are close enough to the Infected that they’re in danger, but Cel is already poking the dead together with a stick. “Cel and I will clear up here.”

“Are you sure?” Zolf asks as Wilde calms down, wiping the blood off his dagger. He knows how much Hamid means to Azu. They are practically siblings. She nods, her face set in anger.

“You’ve still got healing left. Go.” Her voice brooks no arguments. Zolf nods and Oscar and him hurry deeper into this complex.

It doesn’t take them long to find Hamid. It’s the only room which is still guarded and Zolf doesn’t even blink before thrusting his flaming glaive through the throats of the hapless sentries. The door isn’t even locked.

But they realise why when they open it.

The room is dark, but Zolf’s darkvision makes it very easy to see the small shape in the back corner, in a cell only just big enough for him to stand in.

Hamid.

Hamid is curled up on his side, but the way he is holding his chest implies he’s injured. He hasn’t moved, despite the way the door is thrown open.

“Give me some light,” Zolf hisses and Wilde mutters under his breath, creating magical torches in place. Then he curses.

“Hamid!” The sorcerer doesn’t shift and now the light is better, Zolf can see the blood on his clothes. His metal legs are loud, ringing out in the silent room as he crosses to the bars and focuses. Focuses on that little bit of hope, of faith deep inside his chest.

_Please. Not yet. We can’t lose him._

The energy thrums out from him and Oscar shudders beside him at the cooling touch of the magic.

And Hamid stirs.

“Hamid,” Zolf hisses. Slowly, the halfling adjusts himself so he’s upright, blinking at him.

He whimpers, behind the gag in his mouth and Zolf’s trained eyes flick over him. Looks like one of Hamid’s legs was broken but with the magic is starting to heal and most of the blood appears to be from fairly superficial wounds which have bled heavily. His hair is matted and bloody, his hands bound in his lap. Oscar curses quietly beside him.

“Okay, we’re going to open this cage, but you understand we can’t come near, right, Hamid?” Wilde says placatingly and Zolf wouldn’t be surprised if there was just a little thread of magic in his voice to calm the other. They all hate this. Hate that now they have to fear that this isn’t Hamid, that he’s been taken over, Infected, but also, it is what has to be done in a situation like this. The sorcerer nods, his brown eyes wide, wet and so fearful. Zolf feels sick as he forces the lock. It takes time. Too much time. Sasha would have been able to do this in seconds but finally, they manage to pry open the door.

“Can you walk?” Zolf asks, his voice low, calmer than he felt. Hamid shrugs slightly. “Okay, one second.” Dismissing the holy fire, Zolf reaches in with his glaive and carefully severs the bonds around Hamid’s wrists. He doesn’t miss the way he flinches. The halfling reaches up and removes the gag from his mouth.

“You came,” he whispers. His voice is raspy, clearly unused in the time he has been gone.

“Of course we came,” Oscar says, his voice sharp. “There was no question about it.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Zolf says gruffly. He doesn’t want to think about remaining here longer than he must. Hamid nods and struggles to push himself upright, his left leg giving way under him immediately. Both Zolf and Oscar reach for him before they stop themselves.

“Here.” Zolf slides his glaive across the floor and Hamid smiles, ever so slightly, before picking it up to use as a walking stick.

“Thank you.” It’s clear that it hurts Hamid’s throat to speak and as he limps out to join them, Zolf can see the bruising around his neck, over his face…

Oscar and himself share a look which reads _If everyone here wasn’t already dead, they certainly would be now._

* * *

Oscar hates himself for this.

Einstein transports them back to Japan and they all have to restrain themselves from helping Hamid as he limps into the inn where they have been living. He understands that he has to be quarantined. But it doesn’t hurt Oscar any less when they herd him down and lock him in that cell. It doesn’t hurt any less when he notices Hamid’s breaths quicken and how he curls up in the back of the room, as far away from the bars as he can be.

Azu takes the first watch.

Oscar wants to vomit.

He does so, after leaving the cells, spends five minutes retching in the bathroom whilst Zolf holds his hair back and gently rubs his back.

He _knows_ the protocols. He has lost far too much, had too many people turn out to be _liars_ to forgo them. There were too many Infected holding Hamid.

But that doesn’t stop it hurting.

“It has to be him, right?” Oscar manages to choke out, slumped back against Zolf. “It has to be.”

“It… it is,” Zolf says quietly, his hands still in Wilde’s hair. “He’ll pass quarantine. We just need to wait it out, like we did before.”

“We should have stayed,” he mutters and there are tears streaming down his face. “Shouldn’t have left Azu to do that. Shouldn’t have run away.”

“Oscar, look at me,” Zolf sighs. “Hamid will understand. Right now, we both need sleep. You’ve barely slept since he went missing. C’mon, let’s go get some rest and then, then we’ll take watch.” Oscar nods, letting himself be picked up off the floor.

He crashes into bed without even considering changing and Zolf joins him after shrugging off his breastplate and removing his prosthetics.

“Rest,” he mutters and kisses Wilde gently between the eyes. “He’s safe. Sleep.”

And ever so slowly, Oscar lets himself melt into sleep.

* * *

Zolf wakes long before Wilde does. He slips out of the grasp of his partner with a small smile, determined to check on his other one. It takes him a little while to reattach his prosthetics, as it always does, but it is better to give his legs a rest.

He finds Cel crouched on a small stool when he heads down to the quarantine area. The light is dimmed and Hamid appears to be fast asleep, coiled into a tight ball on the cot.

“Hey,” Zolf murmurs and Cel jolts, looking up from whatever project they had been tinkering with.

“Oh, hi. Sorry, didn’t hear you come in.”

“How is he?” Cel sighs.

“He’s actually only just managed to fall asleep. Azu’s been sat here pretty much all night, trying to keep him calm. Being in the cell panics him.” Cel is uncharacteristically quiet. “I sent her to bed about an hour ago when he dropped off.”

“I’ll take watch,” Zolf says quietly. “You need rest too.” Cel looks at him with too much brightness in their eyes.

“I’m used to running on very little,” they reply and not for the first time, Zolf wonders what on this alchemist has managed to get themselves into in the past.

“Still, go on. I’ve slept. Try not to wake Oscar though, he really needs it.” Cel sighs but gets up, putting away their tinkering tools.

“Alright, fine. We still need to have that chat with Shoin.”

“Yeah. We will.” And the half-elf heads off, leaving Zolf to sit silent vigil over Hamid. He looks so small like this, in this huge empty cell, barely even taking up space on the bed. And Zolf hates how long it took them to get to get him, how much it has clearly destroyed Hamid.

The silence is stifling but Zolf doesn’t have anything to do but wait. And wait.

About an hour in, Hamid starts to tremble and whimper. Zolf looks up from polishing his breastplate unnecessarily.

“Hamid?” he asks quietly, watching as the halfling tosses. It only lasts for a few moments before he bolts upright, a strangled scream escaping him. “Hamid! It’s okay. It’s okay.” He turns to Zolf and the dwarf immediately lights an extra torch to let Hamid see him clearly. “You’re safe.”

“Yes,” he croaks quietly, but Zolf can see his hands have become claws as they are wont to do when he is afraid. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” Hamid looks down at his claws and concentrates for a second until they return to normal. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“They weren’t… kind captors,” Hamid says. “It’s difficult to remember I’m not there.”

“I’m so sorry it took us so long,” Zolf replies, shifting slightly closer. “Gods, Hamid, I’m just sorry.”

“You came. That matters.” They’re both quiet for a long moment. “Where’s Oscar?”

“Sleeping. He basically didn’t whilst you were gone, so I bullied him into getting some rest,” Zolf mutters, wryly. Usually Hamid was the one to remind them to sleep. He has a habit of draping himself dramatically across Oscar’s lap and not letting him do any work until the bard gives up and goes to bed.

“Glad he’s resting now,” Hamid sits upright on the bed now, hunched over on himself. “Why aren’t you with him?”

“I have already slept. Thought you might need some company. Do, uh, do you need healing? I can help with that if you want?”

“My leg is still very sore?” Hamid replies, almost sheepishly and Zolf nods, muttering a short prayer and performing a minor healing spell. Hamid’s shoulders slump. “Thank you, Zolf.”

“Least I could do,” Zolf mutters. “But really, you should get some rest. That’s a better healer. I’ll be here if you have another nightmare.” Hamid nods, lying back down and curling up.

“Okay. Good night, Zolf.”

“Goodnight, Hamid.” It takes Hamid a while to doze off, lying flat on his back until slowly, slowly, Zolf watches his breathing even out.

And his vigil continues.

* * *

Oscar heads down to the quarantine area. He is technically going to perform the first check for blue veins but he knows he won’t leave afterwards. He is too worried about Hamid to return. Zolf and Azu are both there, quietly chatting with Hamid, who is still sat in the back corner of the cell.

“Oh, hey Oscar,” Zolf says, standing up.

“Check up?” asks Azu and Wilde nods, not trusting his voice. “I’ll head off. I’ll be back soon, Hamid.”

“Okay. See you later, Azu,” Hamid says, his voice still subdued. He is quiet and obedient during the check which only serves to upset Wilde more. He remembers Hamid always been so frustrated, so unhappy with the checks previously. Afterwards, he takes up a spot next to Zolf as Hamid curls back in on himself.

“You’re staying?” he asks softly and Oscar nods.

“Don’t want you to feel like you’re alone.” Hamid blinks, not fidgeting at all and the stillness is almost unnatural on him.

“Thank you,” he says. “For coming for me.”

“I… I wasn’t, I’m not going to lose you again,” Oscar says firmly and Hamid blinks up at him.

“We’re not going to,” Zolf echoes firmly. “It was enough once.” The halfling almost smiles at the two of them, but it is weak and shy in a way which is so out of character it hurts Oscar. Zolf reaches out and takes the bard’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“You alright?” he asks. Wilde nods, giving Zolf a small smile.

“I’m fine. Thank you for the concern.” Zolf obviously doesn’t believe him. Oscar is a good liar, but the cleric knows his tells far too well for this. What he doesn’t expect is Hamid to say, from across the room,

“You’re not, Oscar.” It throws him a little.

“I’m fine,” Wilde replies, sharply. He doesn’t want to talk about this. Doesn’t want to relinquish his tentative hold on objectivity, on keeping in his mind that this might not be Hamid… If he talks to him too much, he’ll lose that.

But if he leaves, he’ll only hate himself more.

Hamid nods, curling up on the bed in the cell. He looks so little. Oscar is a very tall man, willowy with his height and both of his partners are very much not. Hamid is half his height at the best of times. But now, he looks so small, so tiny. Oscar wants to hold him. He is always the one who calms Hamid through his anxiety attacks, by quietly humming as he holds the halfling. And now, watching him in this cell, it hurts that he can’t help.

It just _ **hurts**_.

* * *

Hamid hates the cell.

He understands the logic of quarantine, hell, he would have done it himself. He doesn’t think he’s Infected, because he never came into contact with any of the dead-eyed, blue veined individuals. The Cult of Hades mainly dealt with him. But he would prefer to be safe.

But he hates it so much.

Every time he wakes up, he can feel the bite of rope on his wrists, the dryness in his mouth. And even when he moves, knows that he isn’t there, he’s still caged.

His left leg has been healing slowly from the broken bone, but it is still sore and aching, so he tries to move it as little as possible.

The one good thing is he’s never alone.

The rest of the group take it in turns to sit with him. Azu and Zolf are here the most which is nice, but Hamid misses Oscar. He comes down for the daily check and will stay quietly for an hour before having to leave.

“He just… he’s been burned before. He is trying to keep his composure,” Zolf explains, three days in. “He tries not to get attached until he knows you’re well… you.”

“I… I guess,” Hamid sighs. He’s frustrated now, some of the apathy having drained from him, even as much as he is still afraid. “I just miss him.”

“He’s not doing well,” Zolf says, almost conspiratorially to Hamid. “And I know you’re not too.” Zolf always was too insightful.

“I will be fine,” Hamid says stubbornly. “What’s wrong with Oscar?” Zolf sighs, shrugging a little.

“He’s not sleeping again. I’ve bullied him into it, but he always appears to get up early.” Hamid shuffles on his bed.

“Honestly, he’s going to run himself ragged.”

“I know…”

Azu and Cel spend a lot of time around too. Azu will often hold conversations on anything from the most delicious type of fish (salmon) to what the weather is like (always raining). Cel is excitable, but also tends to take watch when Hamid is sleeping, because of their own odd sleeping patterns. Hamid often just catches them at the beginning and end of their watches.

But it is nice to know that everyone cares.

* * *

Seven days to the hour, the key is turned and the door is flung open. Oscar and Zolf are both stood there as Hamid runs out, throwing himself into their arms.

“Gods, I’m so glad you’re okay,” Zolf whispers, clinging to the halfling as Oscar folds himself over the two of them, like an especially lanky willow tree.

“Thank you for coming for me,” Hamid sniffles, his face buried in Zolf’s breastplate as he grabs tightly at Wilde’s hand. “Thank you.”

Oscar just chokes down a sob, clinging to them both.

“You’re safe,” he murmurs, not releasing them. “You’re safe.” They stay there for a few moments, not quite willing to let go yet.

“Honestly, I know you’re all in love and everything, but you’re hoarding him,” Cel mutters as themselves and Azu stand a little way away. Hamid laughs wetly and extracts himself from the hug to give one to the other two in turn. “Glad you’re okay, little buddy.”

“Thanks Cel,” Hamid smiles. Azu proceeds to pick him right up, letting him hug her tightly. “It’s so good to be able to hug you again.”

“I’m so glad you’re… you.” Azu manages, before putting him back down.

“Well, if we’re all done being sappy,” Zolf says, gaining himself several pointed scoffs at the happy tears running down his face. “I’ll go make us some tea.”

It doesn’t take long for Cel and Azu to leave the three of them alone, especially after the way that Oscar looks at Hamid. Like he’s going to vanish if he ever leaves his sight. The three of them drink tea together, Hamid sat curled up between Oscar and Zolf.

“Are you honestly doing okay?” Zolf asks quietly. Hamid shrugs a little. He looks a little different, his face gaunt and his eyes haunted. As soon as they were out of the cell, he had prestidigitated himself clean and tidy once more, but that can’t hide simple emotional exhaustion. Oscar begins to hum slightly in the back of his throat, the light and gentle sound which he always makes to try and calm Hamid down.

“It… I didn’t really feel like I had left that place until now. The cell was so dark and every time I woke up, I was afraid,” he replies. He is rubbing nervously at his wrists, until Zolf places his hands over Hamid’s own, stilling them immediately. “It was hard. But you were there, and it made it better.”

“I’m, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” Oscar murmurs, toying with the halfling’s curls. “I should have been.”

“I… I was angry,” Hamid admits. “But I understand. You just didn’t want to get hurt again.”

“I just, I care about you, both of you. I needed to be sure that it was you,” Wilde says, pressing a kiss to each of their heads. “I won’t lose you again.”

Zolf smiles, leant up against Wilde, with Hamid settled on their laps. It’s a dangerous promise to make at a time like this, but he would be damned before he disagreed. Hamid just smiles in return, curling into Oscar’s chest.

“I care about you too,” Hamid says easily, though his smile doesn’t quite light up his face like it used to. With Zolf’s help, he has healed completely, but the mangled skin where his left leg had been broken has scarred badly. And it’s clear that he will be struggling with the aftermath for a little while.

They’ve all got bad scars now.

“C’mon,” Zolf mutters, nudging Wilde slightly. “How about we all take a nap together?”

“That sounds nice, I might not have such bad nightmares if you’re there,” Hamid says, far to easily for the weight of that statement. Oscar nods too, his face relaxed into an easily smile. “And I know that Oscar hasn’t been sleeping.” That makes the bard blush, embarrassed. Zolf chuckles.

“I was worried,” he protests weakly, but lets Hamid scramble off his lap. “I wanted to be sure you were okay.”

“Sure, Oscar. And now you are sure, let’s go nap.” Zolf gets up too, offering a hand to the bard who takes it without complaint.

They decide to bed down in Oscar’s room, which has the biggest bed. Oscar lies on the edge as he always does, not wanting to feel trapped. Hamid is settled in the middle, protected by them both as Zolf and Oscar join hands over Hamid’s chest.

“Get some rest,” Zolf chides quietly as the halfling wriggles around, trying to find a comfortable spot. Oscar chuckles, crooking his long legs up to nudge Hamid’s feet. “We’re all here now.”

“Sleep well,” Wilde murmurs, closing his eyes and curving somewhat around the others.

“Mmhm, goodnight,” Hamid mutters, finally settling into a comma like position, back pressed into Zolf’s chest.

“Goodnight,” Zolf replies, a little amused as his partners finally manage to find themselves some sleep. He waits up for a little while, to make sure that Hamid doesn’t have nightmares. But he remains asleep, protected from the darkness inside his head by both of their presence. Oscar drops straight into a deep, exhausted sleep, without showing any sign of coming out of it any time soon.

And as the afternoon sun peaks through the curtains, dappling them both in golden light, Zolf can’t help but feel lucky. Even now, with everything that is happening, Zolf has beauty in his life in the form of a lightly sarcastic bard and a soft yet sharp-tongued sorcerer. And he wouldn’t want them any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and bother me on twitter and tumblr, HistoriaGloria!


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